


Nothing For Us Here || Hyunin

by Jam_less



Series: Stray Kids Alternate Universe [1]
Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety, Changlix on the side, Chaptered, Depression, Drugs, High School, Jeongin can't help but love Hyunjin, Little Fluff, M/M, Mental Illness, Toxic Relationship, Yang Jeongin | I.N-centric, gang boss Hyunjin, homeless jeongin, hyunin, i feel bad for them both, kinda serious, lots of triggers, major angst, relationship oriented, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jam_less/pseuds/Jam_less
Summary: "Hyunjin never knew love; not that of a parent or that of a friend. He grew up believing the world was cold and hateful and cruel, so that's what he became."In which Jeongin can't help but fall in love with Hyunjin, even after everything he's done.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Series: Stray Kids Alternate Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800454
Comments: 21
Kudos: 49





	Nothing For Us Here || Hyunin

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a side story from one I am writing that is mainly about Changlix, I'm not really sure how I turned it into this lol
> 
> Anyways, if you like it and would want to read the Changlix fic I'm working on that but am not sure if I'll actually post since I have commitment issues. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see the Changlix story sometime. 
> 
> It's possible I will make a second of these in Hyunjin's perspective, not sure yet but lmk if you'd read it
> 
> WARNING: Contains mentions of anxiety, depression, mental illness, suicide, violence, verbal and physical abuse, main character death, and alludes to sexual assault. If any of these things make you uncomfortable or triggered, please do not read this chapter. 
> 
> National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

_"Everyone here has issues. That's why nobody stays for long. You're either killed, kill yourself, or run as far away from this hellhole as physically possible."_

Anxiety was Jeongin's issue. It had started when his father died. He had been 13. That was four years ago, long before Hyunjin had found him. Therapy wasn't a possibility: it was way too expensive for a homeless kid without a job. He couldn't even afford medicine, before he had met Hyunjin. He told himself those had been the worst two years of his life, the ones when he hadn't had medication. But he knew, unwillingly, that the worst years of his life had started when the older boy had found him curled up on the side of an empty street. 

The worst years of his life? Easy. He was living them. 

_"Which are you going to be?"_

* * *

"He'll never be like you, princess." Hyunjin smiled demonically, bending over Felix with his gun dangling carelessly from his hand. "He'll always be a criminal, a liar. You'll never be able to trust someone like him."

Bug-eyed and covered in his own blood, Felix stared up at him with a level of fear Jeongin had only felt himself. Disgust rose in his stomach, accompanied by the nausea he always felt during Hyunjin's episodes. He clutched at his stomach in attempt to ease the pain, looking to the ceiling for help and finding none. Hyunjin giddily pulled his knife from his belt, and Jeongin turned away. He had seen this too many times before. Too many times when someone tried to cheat him out of a deal, or didn't pay for their drugs on time, or even just insulted him. 

"Hold him down," the unforgettable voice commanded, and he heard shuffling as the two others moved to follow the order. "Aren't you going to watch, baby?"

Jeongin turned quickly, startled to see that Hyunjin was looking at him, head cocked expectantly. "Of course," he nodded, forcing a smile and taking a step closer. He couldn't bring himself to look Felix in the eyes, so he stared at the ground above his left shoulder, hoping Hyunjin wouldn't notice. 

He didn't, and instead turned back to Felix, tucking his gun neatly into his waistband. 

"This won't hurt at all," Hyunjin said with a sick smile, lowering the knife towards where he had exposed the boy's upper chest. As he did, Felix squirmed against the heavy limbs holding him down, head shaking as he tried to speak over the wad of cloth that had been stuffed into his mouth. His doe eyes followed the knife helplessly, before squeezing shut as it slid into his skin, tracing a path with blood. 

He let the knife glide, smiling at the muffled screaming as if it were music. When he finished, he let the blade sink deeper, pressing it a few more centimetres beneath the skin before dislodging it fully, and Felix trembled beneath him. He trembled with his arm that was snapped in two places, his broken nose and swollen eyes, his three broken fingers, the bruises that riddled his body, and the symbol, Hyunjin's symbol, now etched permanently into his chest. 

With that, Hyunjin was finished, and he stood. As usual, he looked over his work, eyes trailing over Felix's broken body with pure satisfaction, and only when he made his way up to the boy's eyes did he say anything. He bent down, and gripped Felix's jaw in his hand, tight enough to make his body tense. Then he looked him in the eyes and said with menacing seriousness, "Rat me out to the cops and I'll fuck your boyfriend right in front of the stupid brat he calls a brother. And when I'm done, I'll gut him like a fish and leave the mess for you to clean up."

There was nothing playful in his tone, nothing joking. The threat was intended to scare, to intimidate. And if it came down to it, Jeongin knew he would act on his words with unquestionable doubt. Hyunjin released Felix, turning to catch Jeongin's eye. 

"Let's go home, baby. I have special plans for us tonight." And after everything he had just done, he smiled. And Jeongin hated him for it.

But there was nothing he could do, so without a word he followed the older boy, avoiding Felix's eyes as he stepped over him, trying not to think about what he had just seen. 

When they got back to their room, Jeongin had rushed to the bathroom, falling to his knees as vomit spewed from his mouth. 

"Get out here when you're done," Hyunjin said harshly, turning from where he stood in the doorway. Jeongin's head throbbed and he braced himself, knowing the tone well. 

Once his puking eased up, he lifted himself and washed off his face with cold water from the fountain. 

"You coming?" the sharp voice called, and his stomach dropped.

"One sec, I'm getting my pills," he responded, to which he heard an annoyed grunt coming from the other room. He pulled the cabinet doors open, fumbling between half-empty bottles of pills before he found the one labeled "Xanax." Three should have been more than enough, but he dumped four of the large, white pills into his hand before throwing them back and washing them down with a few gulps of water from the faucet. It was his third time downing the pills that day, and he was way over the prescribed dosage. But he couldn't bring himself to ease off. He already knew he'd been addicted for a while, and it was far too late to do anything about. Besides, they were the only thing that could stop his constantly racing thoughts anymore, and he could barely sleep, even with them. 

As he placed the bottle back under the cabinet, Jeongin's eyes caught the bottle of Ambien, stomach tightening when he noticed it was significantly emptier than last time he had checked. No wonder Hyunjin was set off extra easily today. 

He could feel the beginning of the numbness washing over him as he stood, closing the cabinet door loudly and trailing after the sound of Hyunjin's voice, calling for him again. 

* * *

During their first year together, Hyunjin rarely introduced Jeongin to his "friends." In most cases, he tried to keep him away from them, the majority being drug dealers, junkies, or criminals. It was a rare case he let Jeongin talk to them, much less be alone with them. 

So when he went out to take care of some business and left Seungmin with Jeongin, he had been talkative. Especially when he found Seungmin to be very different than most of his other friends, and not what he would have expected from someone in this lifestyle. Then again, he wasn't someone who would be expected in the lifestyle either, but he didn't really partake in any of the illegal activities. Hyunjin made sure to keep him far away from that sort of thing. 

"When'd you meet him?" he asked the older boy a few minutes after the door shut and they were alone. 

He already knew the topic was Hyunjin. There was nobody else they both knew well enough to talk about. 

"I met him in school actually. He was a year older than me, but I was a year ahead so we were in the same grade," Seungmin said. He smiled at the old memory, and it made Jeongin wonder. It was strange to think of Hyunjin as a normal kid, as anything other than the gang leader and killer he had seen him to be. 

He was silent for a moment, but Seungmin smiled patiently, knowing he had questions. 

"How did he become this?" he gestured at the room around them, knowing Seungmin understood the question. "I can't imagine him having been a normal kid who went to school like everyone else." 

Seungmin nodded knowingly. "If you want to picture some happy little boy who liked sports or games and played with everyone else at recess, that wasn't him. At least not when I met him. I don't know if he wants you to know, but he grew up poor and his father was and alcoholic, and abusive. I guess Hyunjin had a lot of pent up anger because of it, that he had trouble controlling. Apparently he was taken to a doctor once because his father thought there was something wrong with him, and they diagnosed him with Borderline Personality Disorder. I guess he never pursued followup treatment or therapy though. I've never heard him talk about it."

"Oh," Jeongin breathed. He could remember the first time he had been told he had anxiety. It was difficult to come to terms with, and the idea of therapy or medication was daunting. And _expensive_. He knew all too well how difficult it was to get such pricey treatment as a kid with little to no money. 

"He showed early signs though: getting into lots of fights, always being angry, never making friends. He gets triggered really easily and I've seen him have a few depressive episodes before."

Jeongin nodded silently. He remembered the days when Hyunjin refused to get up. He just lay in bed silently, staring at the ceiling. He'd seen the older boy break down over the smallest things, or go into a rage over what he would've thought was nothing. He was unpredictable. 

"But I guess you want to know how he got into the gang." It wasn't really a question, so Jeongin just nodded. "Well actually, he sort of started it. He got into drugs from a young age because of his father and got to know a lot of dealers. So when he decided to run away it was the only thing he really knew. He just dropped out of school and started living off the streets. Eventually he convinced some other kids to join him and they started dealing drugs to make money. And that's how he got here." Seungmin sat quietly after he finished talking, watching Jeongin closely. His attention was soft, almost caring, and Jeongin wished he would come around more often. It was nice to have him around. 

"Thank you," he finally responded, nodding. There wasn't much else to say. "I just wanted to know how... ..how... " The words wouldn't come. 

"How he became a monster?" Seungmin finished the thought and the younger boy looked up in surprise, eyes wide. "It's the truth, Jeongin. We both know it, so there's no need to avoid it."

Jeongin nodded knowingly. He had seen too much of Hyunjin to pretend what Seungmin said wasn't true. "I know," he said softly. "I just wish there was something I could do to help. I see him all the time, and sometimes he's different. It's like he's..." he searched for a word that fit. "It's like he's _good_ , sometimes. Like he cares."

"I know that too," Seungmin said. "I've seen him like that, like he must've been before all of this happened. But there's nothing you can do, Jeongin. He never knew love; not that of a parent or that of a friend. He grew up believing the world was cold and hateful and cruel, so that's what he became. There's nothing you can do to change that. To change him."

"I wish there was."

"Maybe in another world you would've been able to help him, Jeongin. You could've showed him there's good in the world, maybe could've fixed him. But he's too far gone and all you'll do is get dragged down with him," Seungmin glanced at the door nervously, as if he were saying something dangerous. 

"You're a good kid, Jeongin. I don't want this to be your life, whatever it is right now. Things won't get better. He'll only keep hurting you. You-" he glanced at the door again, "You should get out of here while you still can."

"Okay," Jeongin looked down at his feet. "Thank you, Seungmin." He said it even though he knew it was already too late. He had nowhere else to go, no hope of running away unless someone would take him in, support him. Buy his pills. But even if he had that, he didn't know if he could leave anyways.

Because as much as he didn't want to admit it, he was falling in love with Hyunjin. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

* * *

The room was strangely quiet when Jeongin first came back from his morning walk. The lights were still off, and when he flicked them on he found that Hyunjin was still lying in bed, hands clutching the covers as he held them to himself like a child. It was strange for Hyunjin to still be asleep since it was already noon and he usually woke up early to go about business. 

But his eyes were open and he wasn't asleep. For a moment Jeongin thought he was dead, and he felt a wave of emotions he didn't understand. He was relieved, as if a burden had been lifted from him. But he was scared too, filled with dread and guilt and a deep sadness that tore at his chest. 

But he soon realized that Hyunjin's chest was moving up and down and the notion left as quickly as it had arrived. 

"Hyunjin?" he asked cautiously, but the boy didn't move. "Baby, are you alright?" He cringed every time he heard the nickname coming from his own mouth, but Hyunjin insisted he used it. 

His head turned slowly, dark hair ruffled and messy from sleeping, and there were dark bags under his eyes despite it being the morning. His eyes locked with Jeongin's, but he didn't say anything. He didn't have to; Jeongin recognized the look on his face.

He knew what was going on. 

"Oh shit, Hyunjin," he whispered, quickly shutting the door behind him. He walked over the the bathroom, opening the door and finding the pill bottle holding the Ambien. On days like this, ones where he wouldn't get out of bed, it usually helped. The drug calmed him, brought him back to his usual self. 

Taking one of the pills, he walked back into the room and held it up for Hyunjin to see. His eyes followed it, but he shook his head as Jeongin moved it towards his mouth, and his lips pressed together. 

"It'll make you feel better, Hyunjin," he urged. "You don't have to feel this."

"No," he whispered, and there were tears in his eyes. God, it hurt so much to see him cry. Even when it shouldn't. "I don't deserve it." His voice was so small, cracking when he spoke. It sounded too frail to be him.

"Alright," Jeongin placed the pill on the bed's frame, nodding his head. "It's okay." He turned to leave, but a loose grip around his wrist stopped him. 

"Stay," Hyunjin whispered, his eyes pleading. "Please, I'd like it if you stayed."

Jeongin just nodded, seating himself back where he had been leaning against the wall next to Hyunjin. He held his breath as the other boy shifted listlessly, repositioning himself to rest his head in Jeongin's lap. His eyes were closed, but his breathing remained too fast to be asleep, and he shivered despite the pile of blankets that lay atop him. 

For a while, Jeongin just sat there, confused and unsure of himself. But eventually he began to relax, bringing his hands up to stroke Hyunjin's hair. He flinched when Jeongin first made contact, but after a few minutes Hyunjin was relaxed again, and his breathing began to slow. 

Maybe this wasn't what he was supposed to be doing, sitting with the older boy's head in his lap. Maybe it would have been better to walk away, to ignore the hollowness of his heart and the way it throbbed when he saw Hyunjin in pain. Maybe if he could only remember the bad things he wouldn't want to sit here forever, wouldn't want to help him. 

But for some reason he couldn't help it. When he looked at Hyunjin he wanted to be mad, but he couldn't. Instead, he felt something else. And every day he prayed it wasn't love. Because Hyunjin was a monster, and you can't love one without being one. 

And Jeongin wasn't a monster. 

Right?

* * *

_The first thing Jeongin noticed when he walked into the apartment, was that Hyunjin was sober. There, sitting in his chair, his dark brown eyes weren't diluted by alcohol or pills. No empty bottles lay sprawled across the floor or clutched in his hands. Instead, he held a book, his glasses hanging dangerously far down his nose, and his brows furrowed in a rare way: focused, rather than angry._

_His teeth didn't gleam in an irrational, menacing smile when he looked up to see Jeongin, but an innocent and genuine one. "Jeongin," he chimed, and his voice was refreshing. "You're home."_

_And it was true. Here, where he had suffered more than enough for a lifetime, he was home. Not because he was in their apartment, but because Hyunjin was here. His Hyunjin. The one who cooked them dinner and read him books he couldn't read himself, and never held a gun to his head. The one who would never have wrapped his hands around Jeongin's throat angrily, and the one who wouldn't even think of withholding his pills to smugly watch him break down._

_"Hyunjin," he breathed, a smile crossing his face. The most genuine smile he had worn in weeks. He crossed the room carefully, as if at any moment he would break the fragile walls that held a monster at bay. But they were still standing when he reached the other side._

_He couldn't be angry anymore. He couldn't be hurt. The memories of past weeks faded as he seated himself next to Hyunjin, curling against his side. The older boy wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. And it wasn't alcohol that Jeongin smelled, the sharp scent taking over. It was the soft, flowery scent of Hyunjin's shampoo. The sweet tang of his cologne._

_"I missed you," he admitted, meeting the soft eyes that looked down at him. Breaking at the genuine smile that met him._

_He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled against Hyunijn's lips, but as the older boy leaned down and kissed him, he did. It was soft and gentle, the way he liked._

_They lingered close to each other, pulling apart with smiles and twinkling eyes and soft breaths. Then Hyunjin was leaning in again, softly pressing kisses against his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his jaw. He breathed in sharply when Hyunjin moved to his neck, eyes closed and lips parted because he couldn't get enough of their slow kisses._

_The hands around his waist were loose, and then he was being lifted up. Held against Hyunjin and carried gently across the room. Set down at the edge of the bed and pulled softly closer._

_He couldn't remember the last time Hyunjin had kissed him like this, gentle and loving. It made him feel things he had forgotten, made him tremble beneath the other boy's roaming hands. But he wasn't trembling with fear, not anymore. His breath hitched Hyunjin's hand slid beneath his waistband, and God, he wanted Hyunjin so bad right then. He wanted every part of him, soft and sweet and so different than he usually was._

_But he pulled away anyways._

_"I can't," he stammered. "I - I'm sorry." Because this wasn't what he wanted, to have sex and pretend like they were okay. Because they weren't, and he couldn't just forget. Not the harsh touches or the yelling or the pain. Not the way the_ other _Hyunjin just laughed when he said no, when he begged to be left alone. He couldn't just ignore the bruises he had for every time he refused, the threats he had heard and the too familiar click of a switchblade opening._

_He braced himself for the cold change of Hyunjin's features, for the gritting of his teeth and the sharpening of his eyes. He braced himself for the too-tight grip of his hands and the cold sneer of his voice. For the bruises and the yelling and the anger._

_But there was none._

_"It's okay," Hyunjin whispered, and Jeongin looked up in surprise. But what he saw was scarier than anything. He really didn't look angry, and his eyes didn't sharpen_ _at the refusal, fingers didn't curl into fists._

_No, when Jeongin looked at him, he couldn't find a trace of cruelty on his features. He was calm and silent and_ sad _. Even after everything Hyunjin had done he just looked so_ _sad and Jeongin felt his heart soften, felt himself give way._

_"I'm sorry," Jeongin said again, leaning forward. He put his hands on Hyunjin's shoulders and the older boy looked up from the ground. There were tears in his eyes as they flickered across Jeongin's face. His lips parted as if he were about to speak, but all that came out was a sob._

_A_ sob. 

_And because he couldn't help the pity in his stomach, couldn't fight the notion that Hyunjin might be more than just a violent captor, he wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him closer. And Hyunjin caved. He collapsed against his chest, tears streaming down his face, body shaking with every new sob. He let Jeongin hold him, let the younger boy rub circles into his back and card through his hair and touch him in ways he never had before. Ways that were meant to comfort, but just seemed to make Hyunjin fall more apart in his hands._

_By the time the tears stopped falling and his body was still save the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, they were wrapped together. Jeongin sat there, on the side of the bed, and realized that he had never held Hyunjin like this, never felt the other boy hold him back so tightly._

_How many years had it been, and they had never sat in each other's arms? Never known the warmth of crying into the other's chest and not wanting to let go._

_When Hyunjin looked up, his eyes were red and swollen from crying. He looked so fragile._

"He never knew love; not that of a parent or that of a friend. He grew up believing the world was cold and hateful and cruel, so that's what he became."

_Jeongin had never forgotten those words, and they rang between his ears as he looked down at Hyunjin. It must have been so hard for him. He could just imagine a little Hyunjin, so happy and optimistic. The things it must have taken to tear him apart were unimaginable. Unforgivable._

_"I'm so sorry," he whispered again, because it was the only thing he could think of._ "What happened to you?" _he wanted to ask._ "Who made you so fragile? So broken?" _But the words were stuck in his throat and all he could do was apologize. Just repeat his "Sorry's" and pull Hyunjin closer and wish he could do more. He apologized for everything that had happened to the older boy. For his father and his childhood, and for everyone who had wronged him. But mostly, he apologized for himself. For not being able to show him that there was enough good in the world, for not loving him enough. He apologized until his throat was raw from crying and he could think of nothing else. Until the world faded away and it was just them._

_They lay on the bed, atop the covers, and neither of them made a move to change into nightwear or to get beneath the sheets. They were too lost to notice, too drained to care. That night, with the lights still on, they pulled each other closer and whispered broken thoughts and breathed in the scent of their mingled breath._

_And Jeongin let himself slip away, let himself get lost in the softness of Hyunjin's hair and the warmth of his skin. He lost himself in his peaceful breaths, in the way he mumbled sleepily into his chest, and how his arms were wrapped so tightly around Jeongin's waist._

_Surrounded by Hyunjin's warmth it was so easy to fall asleep. His eyes drooped heavily and his mind wandered, but he knew he couldn't let himself drift away. Not when the morning would come and Hyunjin would be himself again. When he wouldn't be able to pull him closer and listen to his soft breathing and run his hands through his silky hair._

_So he willed himself to stay awake and take in every moment, commit every detail of that night to his memory. But he knew that the morning would come and he would have fallen asleep. And when he awoke, his Hyunjin would be gone. The boy in his arms, soft and fragile, would leave him once more. So before he could go, Jeongin held him close._

_He looked at every soft detail of his sleeping face, and he smiled._

_"I love you," he whispered. And it was true._

* * *

"I could kill you right now," a raspy voice whispered into Jeongin's ear from behind, sending a shiver down his spine. "For everything you fucking do to me, Jeongin. I could kill you."

The words rang in his ears like gunshots. He could smell the alcohol in Hyunjin's breath, and had seen the empty bottle of ambien in the bathroom. It was nights like these, when he had drank too much or taken a few too many ambien that Jeongin knew all too well the full extent of Hyunjin's cruelty. When he almost wished he was still on the streets. 

"Let's just go to bed," he choked on his words, trying to turn and face the boy behind him but feeling a cold hand grasp his shoulder. "Hyunjin, you're scaring m-" he was interrupted by a cold presence against the back of his neck, and a metallic click. 

"Please, stop." his voice shook, and he could feel the gun pressing harder into his skin, the older boy's hand gripping his shoulder tighter. It was in moments like these where he could feel his anxiety taking control. His chest and face flushed with heat, and it became difficult to breathe as he tried to still his shaking limbs. "Come on," he spoke slowly, willing the tears that were building up in his eyes not to fall. "Le- let's go to bed."

He tried to stand, but the gun pressed harder. "Don't you fucking move," Hyunjin warned, "unless I say so."

"O-okay," Jeongin nodded, clutching his stomach. He could feel the throbbing of stress in his head, the sharp pain of fear as it drilled its way into his chest. 

"Turn around," the voice commanded, and he followed unwillingly. 

What he saw when he faced Hyunjin was terrifying. There, past the sharp steel of a barrel now pressed against his forehead, were the deeply haunted eyes he had fallen in love with, the hair he had run his fingers through, and the mouth he had kissed so many times, perfect and untouchable. 

"God. I could just pull the fucking trigger," Hyunjin trembled as he spoke, his head dipping to one side, staring intensely at Jeongin. Tears streaked down his face, cold and fearful and sad. Jeongin couldn't help but feel bad for him, wish there was some way he could comfort him.

"I - I love you," he stammered, shoving out the words like a shield, wishing they were just a lie. Just a defense mechanism. 

But they weren't, and the gun was still there, pressed between his eyes. Close enough that there was no way he could survive. Close enough that chunks of bone and blood and brain would paint the bed so beautifully. If only Hyunjin pulled the trigger. 

Even if his mind was panicking at the thought of a gun pressed against his skull, he felt his body relax. His eyes closed as he swayed to the side, leaning into the barrel like it was a long lost friend. Even as his mind raced, relief washed over him, and he wondered if it would really be that bad if Hyunjin pulled the trigger. Everything would be over. He would just be another mess to clean up, another burden. But he wouldn't have to worry anymore. 

He had to admit, it was a comforting idea. Not having to think so much, not having to live so afraid. Not having to live at all. 

He willed the gun to fire, willed his pain to stop. 

But it didn't. 

Hyunjin just stared at him with his dark eyes. His tears. It was a face Jeongin had seen hurt so many people. Kill so many, too. A face he was so afraid of that he felt paralyzed. Able to do nothing but cry silently and shake. 

Hyunjin could've done anything to him, and he wouldn't have been able to stop him. But all he did was speak. "Open your mouth." The words were cruel, sharp and commanding. 

He did as he was told, kneeling with his jaw hanging open, tasting his own tears. 

And then he was tasting metal, the barrel resting on his lips, tears falling onto the cold weapon. It was as if he could taste the end, bitter and sharp on his tongue. So final it hurt. 

Hyunjin's eyes stared at him, intense and filled with tears. His brow furrowed and his face contorted in anguish but Jeongin could do nothing but stare up at him, willing him to pull the trigger. The older boy's lips were pulled back, teeth clenched together, and his whole body shook now. The gun was rattling. Then it was gone. Dropped to the floor as Hyunjin stepped away, hands pressed against his head and body tense, hunching over. His face was contorted and he was yelling, voice angry and hurt as he spoke without words. His eyes were squeezed shut, streaming tears as his hands ripped through his hair. 

"Fuck!" he yelled, pressing his forehead into the carpet. His fists pounded into the ground. 

And then he was silent, breathing heavily as he curled up, arms hugging his knees. He was turned away from Jeongin, face pressed into the carpet as the younger boy watched his body shake. 

He stayed there for what felt like hours, sitting on his knees and watching Hyunjin lay there. It wasn't until his tears had dried that he thought to move. He picked himself up from the floor and walked over to Hyunjin. His dark eyes were closed and he looked to be asleep, but for some reason Jeongin couldn't leave him there. He pulled back the covers before shaking Hyunjin's shoulder. The boy mumbled, eyes drifting half-open as he was pulled to his feet and lead to the bed. He collapsed there, exhausted and curling against his pillow as Jeongin lay down on the other side and pulled up the covers. 

He flicked the lights off, but his eyes wouldn't close and he already knew it would be another sleepless night. 

Next to him, he heard Hyunjin shifting beneath the covers. Even though he knew Hyunjin wasn't fully asleep again he jumped at his voice, flinching when a hand touched his shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry, Jeongin," a soft, half-asleep voice whispered. He knew he was sorry. "I love you." It was like an afterthought, a phrase thrown at him by habit before they went to bed, but it wasn't a habit. He couldn't remember having ever heard Hyunjin say "I love you" and doubted he ever would have if not exhausted.

So why now? He would lay for hours and wonder, but the answer would never come. So he closed his eyes and waited until he knew Hyunjin was asleep. 

"I love you too," he choked out. He could no longer deny that it was true.

* * *

_"We're leaving, Jeongin," Changbin snapped as he tossed a few more of his belongings into his bag. "Jongho, grab your shoes from the other room, will you?" he asked, pointing to the door his younger brother nodded, following his instructions._

_"Changbin, please," he begged, practically on his knees. "I can't stay here with him, but I don't have anywhere to go. Take me with you."_

_Changbin shoved him aside, moving to grab his coat from where it was hanging, next to the door. "Did you see what he did to Felix? He has a fucking problem, and I'm not getting dragged into that." He threw the coat into the bag and zipped it up before standing. "If he found out I helped you escape, I'd be dead in a day. I'm sorry, Jeongin. I really am, but I can't risk it."_

_Jeongin nodded, swallowing the dread in his throat at the thought of having to face Hyunjin again. "I- I understand," he choked out, wishing he was anywhere else. "And I'm sorry about what_ _happened to F-Felix. He didn't deserve any of that."_

_"It wasn't your fault," Changbin sighed, "Nobody can control what he does. I just wish it would come back to haunt him. Wish the police could get some real evidence against him."_

_"They won't." He could remember hoping the same thing, that Hyunjin would get caught. That he would actually have to face some consequences. But it would never happen, and the idea of hope seemed childish now. "They never catch him. He can do whatever the fuck he wants and nobody says a word." His voice shook as he spoke. There were unshed tears in his eyes and he wished he was anywhere but there._

_"Hey," Changbin placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing the younger boy to look him in the eyes. "Everything's going to be okay. No matter what he does, we both know he would never hurt you."_

_"Yeah." Jeongin stepped away, letting his eyes drop to the floor. Not physically, anyways. Not enough to kill him. But there were plenty of other ways to hurt someone, and Jeongin would be one to know. He offered a weak smile to Changbin before turning towards the door. "Thanks anyways," he said, swallowing his disappointment. Changbin nodded in response._

_The door closed behind him with a loud click, and he felt himself sinking against the wall. There was nothing left to do, nowhere else to go. With Changbin leaving, Jeongin was now alone, trapped in a world he had never wanted to live in. Hyunjin's world._

_But there was a way out._

* * *

The roof was impossibly far away. Thirteen flights of stairs seemed a bit excessive to Jeongin. Most things did nowadays. 

He hugged his jacket to his bony frame, wondering how long until he could leave this building: a skeletal frame holding too many secrets, too many memories. He started up the stairs. One step at a time, the beat of his shoes against the metal steps thudding between his ears. 

_"I love you."_

Had he really meant it? It wasn't really a question, because Jeongin knew he had. He knew that every time he looked at Hyunjin, whether he wanted to be or not, he was in love. And not just with the boy who read him to sleep and cooked him dinner and bought him medicine. No, he was also in love with the boy who nearly beat Felix to death, who had used a gun more times than Jeongin had held one, and who had pressed a loaded barrel against his skull and told him how much he wanted to kill him. So when he had said he loved the boy pressing a gun against his head, wishing he were dead, he hadn't been lying. 

Maybe the real question was how? After everything he had done, after everything he had said, how could Jeongin still love him?

He didn't have an answer for that, and he knew he never would. 

The top of the stairs were no longer far away. They were right there. A cold wind broke against him as he opened the door to the roof, but it was just another harsh touch. He had dealt with those before, it wasn't going to stop him now. 

He stood at the edge of the roof when he first pulled out Hyunjin's gun. Leaning against the barrier between him and a fatal fall, he could see his world lain out in front of him: the empty playground nobody used anymore, the alleyways on which countless people had lost their lives, the buildings that sheltered criminals, murderers. It was all dull and gray and wrong. So unlike the cold glint of the metal in his hands, the flash of harsh light across it's surface. 

He looked down at the gun he held, and he saw his life as plainly as he had seen the alleys and buildings and playground. He saw his mother and father, the cold nights he had spent on the streets, the look in Hyunjin's eyes when they had first met. 

He looked at the gun and felt calm, for the first time he could remember. There was no background noise in his head, no angry voices and swirling worries.

Finally, it was silent. Finally, he could breathe. 

And maybe if Hyunjin had never found him, curled up and soaking on the side of the road, it would never have come to this. Maybe if he had never been shown so much violence he wouldn't have resorted to it. Maybe if he hadn't loved Hyunjin so much, he could have just left. Just walked away and never looked back. If he had never loved Hyunjin, he wouldn't have been pushed to the breaking point. He wouldn't have to live with the guilt of loving a monster. Of wondering every day how he could possibly love someone so terrible. 

Maybe if none of that had happened, Jeongin wouldn't have been found the next day, lying on the roof with a bullet in his head. But there were no maybe's, only the cruel truth. And Jeongin's cruel truth was the love he couldn't let go of, and the guilt he couldn't defeat.

It was Hyunjin who found him, and by then his body was cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit. That was over 6k words of just angst, congrats. For some reason I feel the need to say sorry for that ending. Whoops, sorry.
> 
> On a more serious note: if you have suicidal thoughts or tendencies please reach out to someone who can help you or call the number I put in the intro notes. You are awesome and needed, and I love you <3
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed^^


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